


Toy

by rosedarkling



Category: Deep-Sea Prisoner, Mogeko, Okegom, funamusea, 海底囚人, 海底囚人 | Deep-Sea Prisoner, 灰色庭園 | Haiiro Teien | The Gray Garden
Genre: Blood and Violence, Heavy Angst, M/M, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spitroasting, Torture, forced cock biting, literal back stabbing, tongue removal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29359344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosedarkling/pseuds/rosedarkling
Summary: Just as an older brother shares with his younger one, it's important that the little brother remembers to share in return, even if the elder breaks a toy in the process.
Relationships: Fumus/Ivlis/Satanick (Gray Garden), Fumus/Satanick (Gray Garden), Ivlis/Satanick (Gray Garden)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. Sharing is Caring

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, yes, hi! I am back with more cursed fics! XD 
> 
> Ever since 2.5 previews came out, I have spoken with and seen many online talking about the "what if Fumus were to interact with Ivlis?" Basically, what if big brother were to break little brother's favorite toy? And what if little brother was not only forced to watch, but also forced to participate? 
> 
> So, ta-da! Here is chapter 1 for this new little idea. I debated about just putting it all out as one big oneshot, but I think I'll split it into two or three chapters. I feel bad when I don't post as often cuz I'm working irl and writing a lot on the side without always releasing stuff in a timely manner. So, here is something to hopefully satiate everyone while I have sooooo many more ideas in the works. :) 
> 
> Thank youuuu, and love you all! :) 
> 
> P.S. Look forward to more wholesome ones in the pipework, too. ;)

“Aanngghh!”

Satanick felt his heart squeeze for the seventh time since arriving in this horrible world. The land of Kumo-no-Kuni was a beautiful one – the true definition of Eden with its ideal lush gardens, clouds, and array of colors. This land ruled by its god was a veritable paradise.

However, the truly ignorant would dare believe such an outward lie. The beauty of such a land was a false sense of security for the faithful and foolish. In reality, the inner workings were much darker than one could ever possibly imagine.

All thanks to the terrible god that reigned over his land.

It was not uncommon for Fumus to harm the angels of his world; after all, they were his creations, and he could do with them as he pleased. Being a ruler over his own land, Satanick understood that concept quite well. Be that as it may, not once had he lifted a hand against his subjects the way his older brother did. Satanick frequented this place enough to know some of his dear sibling’s favorite playthings. On the same hand, they knew – or at least suspected – what go on behind closed doors when Satanick visited. It did not bother the devil lord that they knew such information; after all, they were practically in the same boat. In a way, he could almost sympathize with the fates of such creatures even though they both could handle such abuse.

“S – Stop!”

Satanick’s attention once more snapped back to reality when he heard that familiar and oh-so distraught voice. This was one thing he most certainly could not handle.

His watery, amethyst eyes locked onto the pained, teary face of the one person Satanick had never thought would be in such a position. As much as Fumus’s “sessions” hurt, he would rather be the one bent over the wooden table than the thin frame of the man that was currently screaming out.

It was ironic, in its own sense of the word. That ludicrous thought crossed Satanick’s mind as he could do nothing but helplessly watch Fumus play with the toy he had brought over upon request. Well, he supposed it was more of a demand.

_“Brothers are supposed to share everything with each other, Satanick. That includes you letting me play with your toys. Wouldn’t you agree?”_

Fumus’s words on the phone still haunted Satanick even now, further driving the invisible dagger into his heart. If it was physically possible, he could swear it was being shredded to a bloody pulp at this rate. Chills still ran down his body even now, and with each slice Fumus was making in Ivlis, more and more of him began to shudder. Of course, Satanick tried to reason with Fumus – practically begging him to reconsider this demand. That had only earned him a harsh slap across the face upon having brought Ivlis to this wretched place. He should have known better than to question the whims of a god. Reluctantly, Satanick conceded. As much as it pained him in a plethora of ways, he could not risk disobeying this man. Beings as ancient as them knew that to blatantly disregard the will of those in power was a true life or death sentence.

 _“Promise me you won’t hurt him.”_ Satanick’s words echoed back in his mind as he stared with mouth agape as a new spray of crimson flew before his eyes. All he could do was try to fight back the urge to wrench at the ropes that bound him to the chair he was in. The shaking, tear-soaked eyes that stared back at him only exacerbated the punch Satanick felt in his gut. He had seen Ivlis cry plenty of times. In fact, he had been the main culprit behind all of those tears over the decades. Today was truly no different, was it? Even if he was not the one to physically be doling out the pain, he was still to blame.

Why had he ever agreed to this?

How could he have brought someone he claimed to love into such a horrible position?

_“Promise me.”_

Of course he should have known that no such promises would ever be kept. He was an utter fool to ever believe such a fantasy. Yet here he was, once more hopelessly clinging to Fumus’s false words.

_My fault… It’s all my fault…._

The devil lord could think of nothing else besides the wails of Ivlis and his own self-pity as he stared on in abject fear. 

The gleaming, purple eyes of the god flashed as a wide, toothy grin spread across his face. In his right hand was a large carving knife that had once been shining in its original silver sheen, now caked with copious shades of blood. He had extracted them from the back of the sniveling demon bent before him, and he could not be happier with the results. The globules steadily plopped down from the blade, staining every surface that it touched. The mess did not matter; he would just have one of his special angels take care of the carpeting, clothes, and furniture as per usual. The god had to admit that he enjoyed some semblance of cleanliness, but it was much more delightful to see the dark stains that had seeped into table’s wood and the fibers of the flooring underneath his feet.

Besides, today’s bloodshed was a special one, along with the tears that cascaded down the faces of his two victims.

Looking up from the serrated flesh of the long-haired man’s back, Fumus’s gaze finally met that of his dear brother. It was a shame to not see such a handsome face a bit more black and blue, yet the red hand print he had made earlier from the slap did add a bit of color. It was still just as exotic to see those porcelain cheeks wet with tears, snot, and spittle. A truly ugly yet beautiful sight to behold… all thanks to the shackled man that sobbed and cursed below him.

Torture was a perfect stress reliever for Fumus. It could be quite draining having to rule over an entire realm; he deserved to burn off steam every now and then. It was proof enough that Fumus could feel a bit more at peace seeing the broken mess of a devil. As much excitement as he felt, there was just something unsettling about seeing Satanick cry so pitifully over such a disgusting lizard.

It filled him with bile.

Gritting his teeth together tightly so his jaw was prominently shown, Fumus kept a steady grip on the man’s head with his left hand. He dug his fingers even harder into the man’s skull, earning him a slight whimper. The sight of his dark gray and red-tipped hair sickened him. What an ugly toy that Satanick had chosen to play with. Keeping the other devil’s head still so his chin rested on the hard wooden table, Fumus once more plunged the knife into the man’s back, reinserting it into the same slice he had placed there earlier. As another scream erupted from Ivlis’s mouth, Fumus could not help but grin at the realization that he had perfectly cut along the pattern of where wings used to be.

A truly pathetic, horrible excuse of a toy. What in the world Satanick saw in this wretch was beyond Fumus. Whatever the case may be, he could not freely let this go unpunished. As he drug his instrument of choice through the skin, muscles, and tendons of the fiery devil writhing beneath him, Fumus raised his gaze once more to meet Satanick’s, whom was visibly struggling to control himself. Granted, Fumus had tied him to the chair quite tightly, yet he could see the way the man’s muscles twitched underneath his clean, white shirt – as if he was desperate to break free and run to Ivlis’s aide. Fumus loved to see Satanick in such a dilemma. What he couldn’t bear was seeing him this invested in such a pitiful thing.

Allowing his inner thoughts to spur him onward, Fumus ripped the instrument once more from Ivlis, this time plunging it into his lower back above the right hip. The shriek of pain that erupted from him was music to the sadistic god’s ears. Ivlis tried to squirm, but Fumus held him firmly in place. With his crotch pressed into the devil’s backside as he lie prone across the table – his wrists shackled in place on the wood – every visitor in this room knew there would be no escape.

“STOP!”

The hoarse scream of the shaking demon pleaded for the umpteenth time, going ignored by his tormentor. It filled Fumus with pleasure to hear such visceral reactions; to feel the uncontrollable convulsions of the devil’s body as he was wracked with pain. It would take plenty more to kill a demon, but that was not the god’s end goal.

No. What he was here for was raw, unadulterated torture; to make sure that both toys realized just who the true master in charge was. His dear little brother seemed to have forgotten after all these centuries, so a refresher course was in order. Satanick came over when called, but it was just not the same – ever since this piece of shit had taken his brother’s attention away. Satanick still responded accordingly the way Fumus had trained him all these years. His body could never lie to him when Satanick would be in a similar position where Ivlis currently was. Fumus had made sure that Satanick became well-versed in the realms of pain and pleasure. If there was one thing Satanick was good for it was for beatings and sex.

Keeping tabs on Satanick, Fumus would often be met with the realization that Satanick was putting this knowledge to the test by practicing it on his brand new plaything. That had been more than enough to satisfy Fumus. So long as Satanick was still a good boy to visit him when called, he did not mind Satanick having his own toys to play with. After all, he had quite the collection, too.

However, something had recently changed. Satanick was no longer as sniveling or desperate for his brother’s tutelage as he had been in the past. It was becoming rarer to see those bright purple eyes fade to a saturated hue after a session, only lit up when Fumus deemed him worthy enough to be fucked. Sure, the dull color would still appear, but something felt amiss. Even when Satanick would cry and beg for Fumus to hurt him – to screw him – it felt as if the craving words were no longer as genuine as they once had been.

All it had taken was a simple check-in with dear baby brother to determine the heart of the matter. He had seen Satanick chatting jovially with this lizard on many occasions. He even saw Satanick pushing himself onto the devil like the trained whore he was. Yet even that had become more and more mild with each passing day. Now, all Fumus could see was a pair of disgusting demons that spent more time together, and not in the dungeon like they had years ago.

This wouldn’t do at all, now would it?

Someone had to remind Satanick of his proper place.

Someone had to reeducate him on just where his fealty lie.

Fumus’s dark eyes continued to burn into Satanick’s as the panic-stricken man’s own gaze flickered back and forth between his brother and his “lover.” To even think such a term left a disgusting taste in Fumus’s mouth.

This Ivlis – this despicable wretch of a demon that did not even deserve to be a speck of dirt on the god’s shoe. He was the cause behind Satanick’s distorted new views and actions.

Sliding the blade through Ivlis’s lower back and various organs, Fumus could not help but grin even wider, a slight chuckle rumbling out of his chest. He loved to see Satanick’s open-mouth stare as he seemed to silent scream out, his wrists and ankles straining against the bonds that kept him still in the chair directly across the table. After all, little brother needed a front row seat to watch how to properly play with a toy.

The phlox-colored stare of Satanick was quite lovely to see as it was slowly becoming darkened with each plea that the flame devil shouted out. However, that spark of color was still present in those depths.

Fumus would make sure to snuff out every last bit of light he saw there. That was what Satanick truly deserved anyway.

Misery was a lovely look for him.


	2. Suffocation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update as of 2/13/2020: Hellooooo, me again! So, as you might know, I having gruesome things in fics, and one big thing for me is cutting out the tongue/finding ways for a victim to be silent. Saw this lovely art done by the lovely Bibi, and was inspired to make sure Fumus had his fun with poor Ivlis. Go to the link and check out her stuff! Of course, only if you are 18+! :) 
> 
> https://twitter.com/_BibiAfterDark/status/1358570897515413504

He couldn’t take it!

Ivlis was unsure just how long it had been since he had last been tortured like this, but he feared that enough time had passed that he had steadily been losing his tolerance to endure. The last time Satanick had even touched him had been only a few days ago, yet even that had been tender and in the realms of love-making.

Ivlis gulped back the spit and snot that had accumulated in his throat, which was already feeling strained with his cries and how he was being forced to look at Satanick. His emotions were in a mangled messed in the present moment as he could do nothing but shut his eyes or look head on at the bound man in a chair. Ever the one with a temper, Ivlis could not help but be a bit angry that Satanick had brought him here in the first place. He knew something was amiss when Satanick had come over to once more bring him from the Flame Underworld. That itself was not the strange part; that part had begun when Satanick had forced Ivlis facedown onto the floor to begin binding his arms behind his back. If this had been the case several months earlier, Ivlis would have thought nothing of it. It was a common reoccurrence for Satanick to be rough with him. As commonplace as it might be, it always left Ivlis feeling disturbed and disgusted with Satanick’s choice of activities. Logically he knew that such a thing was never going to become acceptable, though he tried his best to ignore these repeated patterns. 

However, something had begun to change – _Satanick_ had begun to change. It was true that they had a child together thanks to one evening they had shared; a moment of weakness on his part, Ivlis tried to convince himself. Nonetheless, even he knew that such an excuse was a lie. Things had only escalated from there when one evening the Ne-no-Kuni's devil lord came to him with his declaration of love. Of all things, the man had vomited purple and sprouted flowers among his curled, tree-like horns! That had only left Ivlis more dazed and confused than he already had been. 

Then came the words he thought he would never hear out of that man’s mouth.

_“Ivlis, I love you.”_

Ivlis doubted such a thing. What a horrible lie. It served no benefit to either of them but to further confuse the devil of the Flame Underworld. How could the “magnificent Satanick” possibly declare such a laughable thing to someone like him? It was surely a fabrication; there was no way Satanick could love a cockroach like him.

So, why…?

Why had Satanick not tortured him in months? Why did every time he come around, he showered Ivlis with further confessions of love? Why was he being more gentle even with his rough love-making? And why – oh, why?! – did Ivlis find himself giving in more and more each time?

Right now was not the time for pondering such things. Right now, all the flame devil could do was try to control the insatiable desire to flail around and scream even more at the pain he was feeling both physically and mentally. If Satanick truly loved him, he would not have brought him to such a place.

If Satanick really did love him, then why had he betrayed him to be put in such a precarious spot such as this?

Yet as Ivlis looked into the watery, pain-stricken face of Satanick, he could not help but wonder ever so slightly why a fraud would be crying so pitifully as he watched this monster carve him.

The stinging, slicing pain that radiated throughout his body had Ivlis once more arching his back as he trembled. Try as he might, he was still not becoming accustomed to this pain. Lost in a sea of such sickening pain, Ivlis finally managed to cry out, “Wh – Why?! Why are you doing this?!” Whether he screamed that at Satanick or this attacker, he was not sure. Ivlis was able to take notice of the lines that formed around Satanick’s eyes and mouth as he scrunched his face in horrible discomfort at these words.

Ivlis whimpered when he felt the tool being removed from his flesh once more. His head was then violently twisted to the right so his left cheek was pressed into the somewhat cool grain of the table. The man’s fingernails now dug into his scalp through his thick hair, and Ivlis’s eyes instinctively stung with tears at this minor inconvenience. “Gghh!” Ivlis grunted, squeezing his eyes shut to momentarily block everything out so he could try to futilely regain his composure. Upon reopening them, he was met with the face of his tormentor. He had not gotten the chance to get a detailed look at him earlier when Satanick had brought him over, slung over his shoulder like some sack. All he knew was that the place reeked of smoke with its dark color schemes. He was able to steal a few glimpses of the man – short, shaggy, dark gray hair and plain clothes underneath a brown vest. Nothing in particular made this man stand out, yet Ivlis could sense that he held some sort of power over this unknown location. He also deduced that this man held some level of influence over Satanick. From his previous place on the putrid carpeting, Ivlis could only watch in genuine surprise as the slightly shorter man forced Satanick down into a wooden chair, quickly tying him up. The ropes appeared thick, but even Satanick should have been able to break them; at least, Ivlis assumed. The fact that Satanick did not even attempt to fight back had Ivlis’s mind racing. Who was this person? Just how much influence did he hold over Satanick that even he would allow himself to be placed into such a position? Satanick was a sadomasochist – Ivlis knew that well enough – but this was something else entirely.

The air in the room felt heavy; oppressive; suffocating.

Now, this same man bent over Ivlis, his chest resting along his aching, shredded back. Ivlis hissed air in through his clenched teeth. With his sharp-toothed grin, the man brought the bloodied knife down into the table with a loud thunk. Only inches from his face, Ivlis jumped at the sudden act, and the man simply chuckled. Ivlis stared dark pool of blood that coagulated underneath the embedded knife tip. Once again, the flame devil could not help but feel ill at seeing his own blood. It wasn’t uncommon for him – he was a demon, after all – yet it was not exactly the most pleasant sight to see either. With the man’s face only inches from his, Ivlis could feel his heartbeat speeding up as a chill ran through his already numb legs. The red undertones in his hair, that familiar sneer, and those glowing, evil eyes….

“Y – You!” Ivlis choked out, croaking out what he could from his sore throat. “Just who are you?!”

Another chuckle rumbled through the man’s chest, vibrating into Ivlis’s back. His breath reeked of smoke, further adding to Ivlis’s nausea.

“You sure talk a lot for a toy,” the man’s deep voice began. In a way, it was almost reminiscent of Satanick’s from long ago…. Ivlis shuddered at his voice while also feeling his anger rise for being mocked. “We best fix that.”

A penchant for being a hothead, Ivlis went to retort – hoping to perhaps dig further answers out of his tormentor – only to regret doing so soon after. His torturer released his grip on his head to now shove those same fingers into his mouth. Ivlis’s golden eyes enlarged at such an action, and he naturally went to pull his face away. Those filthy fingernails dug into his tongue as his fingers gripped onto the fleshy appendage. With a quick yank, Fumus extracted Ivlis’s tongue past his teeth and lips so it hung out. A choked gasp leaked through Ivlis’s throat, melding together with what he thought was the sound of another gasp in the room.

Saliva dripped across Fumus’s fingers, yet he did not seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to revel in the terror that now shone in the demon’s eyes. With little effort, the god reached over towards his right to a nearby tray that Ivlis could not quite see, though he suspected the contents were just as disturbing as that dripping knife. A quick glimmer of light reflected off a pair of scissors, their silvery luster faded with what one could assume was time, use, or both.

As his blood began to freeze to match his numb feet, Ivlis could only watch in terror as the man placed the open blades against the flame demon’s tongue. Deep, dark purple eyes stared back into the trembling golden ones. The first initial press of the blades together gave enough of a warning that Ivlis’s hunch was right – the blades were dull. He could feel the pressure and sting caused by the interment cuts, yet no blood spilled. The two men’s eyes continued to stare at each other as large tears began to fall from Ivlis’s eyes while Fumus repeatedly open and closed the blunt shears.

Bit by bit, Fumus sawed through the fleshy pink object. Pinned down by Fumus with his nails keeping a steady grip on his tongue, all Ivlis could do was try to scream in garbled cries. His wrists strained at the shackles that kept him locked to the table, but to no avail. The only relief he could get was digging his claws into the solid object to hopefully provide some stability to cling onto. A stream of dark red began to steadily pour out from the wound, running over both Fumus’s left hand and Ivlis’s chin. As the organ was separated from his mouth – leaving only a butchered, gushing stub behind – Ivlis allowed the tears to flow freely down his face as blood dripped down his throat and underneath his head. As he let out more choked sobs, the cascade of blood only allowed gurgles to slip through. The sensation of drowning – that’s what it felt like. His head free from the man’s grasp, Ivlis rotated his head back to the center of his confinement, allowing the fluids in his head to drain out the best they could to help relieve some of this suffocation. It was physically helpful in its own minor way, yet the flame devil still found himself sinking in a throbbing, pain-filled sea. 

His eyes shut in pain, Ivlis did not care to look back and see what the man was doing. Everything was so horribly cold and wet. The man lifted his chest off Ivlis’s back , further leaving him with that chilled sensation. He dare not open his eyes; not yet – not now. Was it better to see what was coming or to avoid it at all costs? Ivlis wasn’t sure; he wasn’t sure of anything anymore….

Cracking open his eyes a bit, all Ivlis could make out was the blurry outline of Satanick through a wall of tears and dizziness. Strange how he was feeling so drained. Had he really grown so accustomed to not being abused that he had weakened? And just when had that ringing started in his ears? It was hard to keep track of all his senses right now. The innate desire to continue to fight burned inside of his gut, yet such a flame was hard to maintain at this point in time. Perhaps it was a blessing his consciousness was diminishing.

However, one thing Ivlis was aware of was the voice of Satanick screaming above the faded din in his ears….

“Fumus, STOP!” Satanick screamed. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt him! You promised!”

Ah, so this man’s name was Fumus. Ivlis supposed it was at least good that he could know the name of his tormentor. Satanick clearly knew him, after all.

Come to think of it, the familiar red undertones in the hair, those glowing purple eyes, that treacherous, devilish grin….

Ivlis could only imagine just how close the two really were.... 


	3. Shared Toy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING for some gross stuff ahead! 
> 
> Hellllloooooooooo! Long time no see! I am so so sorry that this is so late! It's been quite a while, and I apologize. I got super caught up with Mogeko March and work picking up. But rest assured, I still love writing fics, and I hope to keep them coming as much as possible! Thank you for waiting and being so patient with me! Love you all!

Satanick found himself screaming at Fumus when he knew that this situation already did not call for it. To edge his older brother on even further with his blatant “disrespect” was surely a death sentence for any other being. Yet for Satanick, he knew that such a luxury would never be given to him. No – Fumus would never do such a thing to release him from this suffering. He might bring Satanick close to the brink, but eternal death was never his intention. It was not that it was impossible to kill an immortal being such as them, although it was quite the chore. It was that Fumus loved him, as he had stated many times to him. Fumus would never kill him – that much was certain.

Still, Satanick knew he should keep his mouth shut; he did not want to risk the life of Ivlis. To even imagine such a thing filled Satanick with such a dreadful feeling that he felt as if his stomach would drop out of his body. The rational side of his brain screamed for him to be quiet and not risk such an occurrence. However, his mouth and body had a mind of their own in this moment. Visibly shaking, Satanick could not determine what the right thing to do was. His muscles strained as he yanked a bit at the thick ropes that held his wrists and ankles to each of the chair limbs. If he fought hard enough, he was sure he could free himself with ease, though – knowing his brother – he would only seal him down with chains or a spell. History certainly had the reputation of repeating itself; that was the saying, wasn’t it?

Cold, wet tears ran streaks on his cheeks as Satanick stared at Ivlis. The flame devil was nothing but a bloodied mess from what Satanick could see. Torrents of blood left his shredded skin stained red as the wooden table underneath him soaked up whatever it could, staining its already tainted surface even more. Ivlis’s claws were practically embedded in the wood as he clung for any relief he could find as his shackled wrists left him pinned to its surface. What was even worse was seeing those golden eyes that Satanick had begun to longingly want to see more and more these days were overflowing with tears. No; what was truly terrifying was seeing those same eyes starting to lose their luster. Whether it was from the amount of blood loss or torture, Satanick could not be sure.

It was not uncommon for Ivlis to have endured such things. Satanick himself had prepared many gruesome experiences for Ivlis over the decades. Ever since meeting the flame devil, Satanick had enjoyed seeing just how far he could push this man. How much physical, mental, and psychological pain could he cause this world invader? Satanick wasn’t immune to the desires and pleasures of sadomasochism. In fact, he loved being both the giver and receiver of pain. It could be such a delicious, sweet taste.

But something was strange these days…. Something unexplainable had begun to take place in Satanick’s heart, leaving him physically ill over it. It was only when he had finally given in to his feelings that he began to feel better. Yes, he still desired to possess Ivlis and make him his in all manner of ways, but even he had noticed how much more gentle he was towards Ivlis. Even when barging in to make love to Ivlis unbeknownst to him, he would try to be a bit more tender among the deep, bruising kisses.

This…. This was too much to bear….

Never had he expected that his two worlds would collide. Never had he considered the day that Fumus would force his hand into a situation like this where he would willfully bring someone he cared for into such dangerous territory.

No…. This wasn’t Fumus’s fault at all, was it? As much as he would like to pin the blame on the one who was clearly doling out such horror, it was by Satanick’s own doing that he had brought Ivlis into this serpent’s den.

It was his and his alone.

Of course… that’s how it always was….

Satanick jolted out of his self-deprecating thoughts when something landed in Satanick’s lap. Looking down, he recognized the sawed off flesh of Ivlis’s tongue. Just how many times had he been the one to do such thing to the flame devil? Too many to count, he realized; it was no wonder why Ivlis had no sense of taste anymore. Even when feeding Ivlis copious amounts of sweets to show his affections to him, the man never seemed to enjoy the lovely, sweet flavor on his tongue. Now, the bloodied appendage only reminded Satanick of his past and the terrifying present he was currently in.

A gurgled gasp now had Satanick lifting his eyes to watch as Fumus had his hands on Ivlis’s hips. If he wasn’t already feeling ill, this was surely going to send him reeling. It was never quite torture without some form of sex….

Satanick found himself letting out his own shocked gasp as he helplessly watched Fumus reach around to undo Ivlis’s belt. His rough hands yanked the flame devil’s pants down – underwear and all. Ivlis let out an immediate protest, garbled from the loss of his tongue, but Satanick recognized that tone; one of fear, one of malice, one of despair….

“F – Fumus!” Satanick managed to pry his own dry tongue off the floor of his mouth as he leaned forward as far as he could in the chair. Once more, his body and mind waged war on what to do. His body screamed at him to break free of the ropes, and it was mildly successful as Satanick felt his wrists straining against the bonds holding him down. Nevertheless, a rational yet ingrained trepidation hollered at him that to do such a thing would only spur Fumus on more. Satanick knew his brother well enough that any sort of retaliation or backlash against him would only cause both of his captives a whole new world of pain.

Fumus’s bright, glowing eyes now met Satanick’s, and a pleased sneer curled his lip and right eyebrow into the most delighted expression Satanick had seen on him. “What’s the matter, Satanick? Are you not enjoying the show?” Fumus’s left hand reached out to now embed his grip onto the back of Ivlis’s head to hold him still. Ivlis yelped as the rough fingers dug into his skull and his chin was forced into the hard grain of the table to face Satanick. Ah, there it was – that pale, wide-eyed visage on his little brother’s face that he adored so much. But there was still that that look of concern mingled with fear.

Deplorable. Disgusting.

He best wipe that emotion clean off Satanick’s face as soon as possible. The god loved his toy’s expressions; watching the very last bit of hope drain from their eyes was one of the most satisfying things for him to see. A toy was just no fun if it was too possessed with its own thoughts and feelings. It worked best when they were quiet, blank-faced dolls. Of course, they would always return to a somewhat normal state eventually, but that was part of the fun; he could once more play with his toys until he was content all over again. It merely depended on his mood that day, anyway.

Today, he would revel in taking away that tiny spark still lingering in Satanick’s eyes.

With his right hand, Fumus easily manipulated the button and zipper on his own black trousers to free himself. Being the one to deal out physical pain was always quite the turn-on for him, but even more was watching the immense dread that drained the color from Satanick’s face and eyes as he could do nothing but watch it all unfold. Part of him craved a small portion of Satanick to fight back against him if ever so slightly so he could experiment with new methods to destroy Satanick even more. However, it was quite pleasant to watch him squirm and battle his own desires. He could take pride in the fact that he had trained his little brother quite well.

With his eyes still meeting Satanick’s, Fumus grabbed his erection, found the entrance to Ivlis, and slammed himself in. He was never delicate in the matters of sex – it was simply another way to feel heightened pleasure. Besides, that is how he had trained Satanick to like it, as well. It was implying no fun if there was not a bit of pain involved. Fumus found himself grinning when Ivlis screamed at the forced entry, and he practically laughed watching Satanick’s pupils constrict in true terror. The poor younger one had to watch the older one break his favorite toy. How pitiful and fun.

Good. Perhaps this would finally snap some sense into Satanick’s thick skull.

“AUGHPH!”

Ivlis’s screams rang through the air, blending in with the hiccupped and blubbering whimpers that slipped past his bloodied mouth. Satanick felt truly ill at seeing such a display. This…. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

No! No, no, NO!

Satanick’s mouth hung open in a silent scream as he watched his brother thrust himself in and out of Ivlis from behind. There was no mercy to be seen in his facial expressions – no tenderness to his approach. He was simply fucking Ivlis like some sort of ravenous beast. With his left hand still entrenched in Ivlis’s hair, Fumus used his right to yank on Ivlis’s red, pointed tail that twitched and thrashed behind him in response to the assault. This only caused the flame demon to yelp out more as it felt that the membranes would be split and his tail torn off at any moment. His rear moved upwards whenever Fumus would tug on this appendage, only giving him more access to Ivlis’s hole. The flame devil’s claws began to join the new areas of blood splattering the table as he dug them deeply into the wood.

All of him was being torn, and it was all Satanick’s fault….

“AUGHPH!” Ivlis’s tearful, desperate screams once more echoed out of his raw, bloodied throat. He writhed and tried to squirm out of Fumus’s grip, but to no avail. It only made things worse as Fumus would only further drive Ivlin’s chin into the table and slam himself roughly into him. Ivlis’s choked cries sputtered into whimpers after each painful push on his body and tug on his tail. Some thrusts were so powerful it left Ivlis feel even more dazed as he could only scream in silence.

“Shut up,” Fumus hissed down at him, his breathing becoming raspier and his tone deeper. A bead of sweat formed on his brow from the force he was using. All the while, he wore that same, conniving smile. No mercy could be found on this man, nor would it ever be….

He couldn’t take this! Satanick could not take seeing this horrible display in front of him. He despised this situation entirely. His body could no longer handle seeing these visions of madness, and despite his mind screaming at him to not risk angering Fumus any further, Satanick finally yanked his eyes away. Bile that had been creeping up his esophagus was creeping up even further, and it took all of his willpower to force it back down lest it spill out. Dried tears stuck to his cheeks as that same icy sensation spread throughout the rest of his body.

“Satanick.”

Fumus’s cold voice dug like a dagger into Satanick’s already damaged nerves. He feared what he would witness if he raised his eyes, but to avoid him any further would be beyond moronic. Gulping back the vomit and snot that lingered in his throat, Satanick raised his dulling eyes to meet those of his brother’s. Dark purple just as his was but with that familiar flicker of madness in them. Satanick feared what he might see, yet all he saw was Fumus having eased his roughness, leaving a sniveling, whimpering Ivlis. The flame devil’s body shook violently against the table as he kept his eyes squeezed shut, most likely fearing the next painful thing to occur. Satanick could only imagine the strain Ivlis was experiencing; he personally knew that feeling all too well.

The next words out of Fumus’s mouth only further solidified the icy, drowning sensation in Satanick’s gut. “Come play with me, Satanick. Let’s share your little toy.”

A simple snap of the god’s fingers allowed the ropes that bound Satanick’s arms and legs to drop from his body. Even with his movements no longer restricted, Satanick still felt glued to the spot. Surely Fumus wasn’t asking him to – .

Another cry from Ivlis alerted Satanick back to reality from his momentary lapse into trauma. Fumus had once again given a rough tug to the flame demon’s tail. The way it stretched at his skin, Satanick feared it would surely tear from his body at any moment. Fumus simply smiled as he kept his eyes locked on Satanick’s, awaiting the devil’s next move.

So desperately Satanick wanted to end this nightmare. Perhaps if he was quick enough, he could get a jump on Fumus and get him away from Ivlis? Of course, such an idea was beyond ludicrous. The mere act of even touching Fumus would be a death sentence for any other being. Despite that, Satanick also knew that no amount of physical prowess would be enough to stop his older brother. Power was a tricky commodity to possess. 

Finding himself shakily rising to his feet, Satanick used the arms of the chair to aid him in standing. His legs felt as if concrete had been placed in them, and he found himself involuntarily shaking as he approached the table. Even if he was half a head taller than Fumus, Satanick felt so incredibly small as he arrived at the opposite end of the table where Ivlis lie. The man had pried open his eyes to take notice of this strange turn of events. Satanick’s gaze first took notice of the shredded pieces of Ivlis’s back. Scars that he had become so familiar with on the man’s pale skin were no longer visible thanks to the blended mess of flesh, blood, sinew, and muscles. It was sickening to see such a thing, though gore did not bother Satanick. He was quite acquainted with all manner of brutality. No, what was disturbing was the knowledge that for the first time in what felt like forever was that his indirect involvement in this entire process was the reason he now bore witness to such a disturbing sight. He tried to keep his gaze away from traveling too far down Ivlis’s back, yet he could not avoid see Fumus’s crotch pressed directly into Ivlis. Satanick swallowed the bile that threatened to spew forth from his mouth. He could not allow Fumus to see how distressed he was, though he supposed it was a bit too late for that.

Ivlis…. Ivlis was meant only for him….

As a choked noise left Satanick’s throat, a similar one croaked from Ivlis’s as his neck craned backwards thanks to Fumus. Those sunset-like eyes that Satanick had begun to become entranced by were losing their shine, and making eye contact with him only left Satanick feeling more heartbroken than he already was. What could he say? What could he do?

Powerless. Hopeless. Futile.

Why… was he like this…?

“Go on,” Fumus crooned, though his tone remained dark. “You’re in the perfect spot to join along, wouldn’t you agree, Satanick?”

This should have been a special moment – one that Satanick should cherish. Today, it was tainted in darkness. The tightening hold on Satanick’s heart once more crushed it to a bloody pulp as his hands fumbled at undoing his belt. Ivlis’s mouth slowly drifted open as he watched Satanick prepare himself. Further tears began welling in his eyes, yet he simply stared on as if in a trance. The ruling devil hated how his body was already responding to what he was about to do. A true sadistic, pervert…. He really was the definition of evil, wasn’t he?

“I… I’m sorry,” Satanick whispered down at Ivlis before moving his hips forward so his cock slipped into Ivlis’s bloodied, drooling mouth. His heart sunk when he saw Ivlis shut his eyes, tears leaking out from behind his wet eyelashes. It pained him to do this to Ivlis at such a vulnerable moment. If anything, he loved these moments when Ivlis would have him in his mouth, but today was oh so different. There was no true joy or excitement to be had in this encounter. What made matters even more horrifying was the fact that even he wasn’t immune to the desires of the flesh. His body naturally responded to the warm, inviting sensation of Ivlis’s mouth once more encasing his penis. Moaning in both pleasure and pain, Satanick felt whatever remain of his heart squeezed in the vice that Fumus had so “lovingly” prepared for him. Tears trailed down Satanick’s face as he tightly gripped onto the table’s edge to provide him some sense of stability as he slowly began to move his hips in rhythm to pump himself in and out of Ivlis’s mouth.

He could not afford to play dumb or delay the inevitable. If he even so much as appeared to be holding back, he feared what else would befall Ivlis. At this point, he did not care if Fumus took everything out on him; he was used to such treatment, after all. But the one thing he could not stomach was to further see Ivlis being met with such cruel actions. It was true enough that Satanick was a sadist – after all, he had been the one that had been in the exact same position as Fumus was right now. Many countless “sessions” the two devils had shared together. The sights, the smells, the sensations – all of it was like welcoming back a long lost friend. Satanick had to admit he enjoyed causing pain as much as he enjoyed receiving it. But this time was different; so horribly, wretchedly different.

Fumus had yet again started his own movement on the opposite side. Satanick kept his head lowered as much as he could, wanting to avoid Fumus’s gaze as much as possible. He kept his eyes downcast to the top of Ivlis’s dark gray hair with the red tips to match his curved horns. What he wouldn’t give to bury his face into the locks; to somehow give Ivlis the tender yet rough love only he could. Satanick could feel his hardened cock twitch in response to these fantasies, and he closed his eyes with a repressed sob stuck in his throat. Drops of tears steadily dripped down from them as he dug his hands into the table, speeding up his movements.

He hated this! He hated this! He hated this!

Just what was he supposed to feel? What was he supposed to do? He honestly did not know anymore. Every emotion was feeling stunted, twisted, warped. Was this really what loved was meant to be...?

Muffled sobs, raspy breathing, the sound of flesh and fluids melding together – a symphony fit for the pleasures of the depraved. All the while, Satanick allowed himself to become lost in his own sea of dark thoughts that threatened to drag him to the bottom of the abyss.

He couldn’t take anymore….

The familiar sensation of his groin burning with the building pressure spurred Satanick to finally release himself. He clung to the table, all the while trying to hold back his choked sobs. They foolishly blubbered past his dry lips as he bent forward over Ivlis. He could hear Ivlis’s muffled groans as he was forced to swallow down Satanick’s seed while Fumus was similarly coming from behind. The flame demon’s body twitched in response to all the stimuli being forced upon him. Feeling him shudder like this only made Satanick feel strangely sick once again. What should have been a pleasant sexual experience was tainted in something Satanick had never speculated.

The vomit was creeping back up into his throat….

As the familiar wash of orgasmic satisfaction rolled over the devil, his eyes and mouth both flung open and his body jolted upright as sharp pierced right through his softening erection. It took a moment for Satanick to realize what had just happened. As new tears stung his eyes and a scream erupted from Satanick’s mouth, the rising bile finally spewed out. He had no control over it, letting it simply fly past his lips and down over Ivlis’s head and back. As his stomach convulsed, the stabbing pricks began to diminish into a deep throb. Even with his manhood still inside Ivlis, he knew that he was certainly bleeding, only further adding to the deluge of fluids that leaked out of Ivlis’s mouth. The bite began to lax, and upon looking down to see exactly what happened, Satanick took notice of Ivlis’s closed eyes. Had he passed out? 

A soft chuckle broke past Satanick’s initial scream, and the devil tightly gritted his teeth to keep himself in control. He bit his lip, hoping that a new sensation of pain would help quell what he had just experienced. Allowing his eyes to finally meet Fumus’s, Satanick knew that he was yet again the cause behind all of this pain. With Fumus’s left arm still stretched out in front of him, his fingers still twisted in Ivlis’s hair, Satanick could identify the problem. Fumus retracted his arm, strands of Ivlis’s hair trailing behind him, plastered to his hand thanks to the puke. Ivlis’s head lulled to the left, his cheek hitting the table. This allowed Satanick to slip himself free from Ivlis’s mouth, and he could only watch as a mixture of saliva, blood, and semen dribbled past the demon’s lips. Everything seemed to move dreadfully slow as Satanick looked down at his injured member. Sure enough, Ivlis’s sharp teeth had pierced straight through the flesh. It stung horribly, but what concerned him most was that Ivlis was not stirring. The once familiar drowning sensation washed over Satanick, and he, too, felt as if he was going to a pass out.

“You know, Satanick, your toy is pretty pathetic. A simple slam of his head and he conked out. What a weakling.” Fumus’s chuckle filled Satanick’s ears, but all he could do was keep his gaze on Ivlis. Bruised, bloodied, broken….

Sticky, foul-smelling fingers were placed on Satanick’s right cheek, causing his gaze to lift to meet Fumus’s. The man’s right hand had released Ivlis’s tail, now placing a lit cigarette to his lips. As he pulled it away to exhale a puff of smoke towards the ceiling, a satisfied grin creeped across his face, revealing his own serrated teeth. Tobacco, bile, blood, sex – all of the familiar scents wafted towards Satanick. 

All of it… like a familiar, long lost friend coming in for a deep hug….

Fumus adored watching those deep purple eyes slowly fading to a darker shade. It was his favorite part of any session. It was an immense thrill for him to watch every last bit of hope get saturated out of those eyes. His voice a bit softer yet still rumbling in depth, Fumus asked, “Didn’t I tell you not to become attached to anything? And a pathetic toy no less?” He slipped his fingers further up along Satanick’s jawline so he could cup his face in his palm. That familiar shiver of Satanick’s was lovely, though he supposed it would have been a bit more enjoyable if his hand had not been thrown up on. Oh, well – there was still plenty of time to correct Satanick on this mishap. Another plume of smoke left his lips as he exhaled, “What a stupid thing you’ve done, Satanick. A true fool.”

Satanick’s eyes stayed locked on Fumus’s even as his body trembled in every possible emotion that he could feel in this moment. “Y – Yes,” Satanick replied, his voice choked with saliva and phlegm from his sniveling. Pathetically weak in tone, he had to respond. It was customary, after all. Everything felt so cold. Maybe that is why he was shivering so much? “It’s…. It’s all… my fault....”

As the familiar coldness seeped throughout every fiber of his being, Satanick could not help but find some semblance of warmth in Fumus as his thumb began to stroke his skin. “Yes, it is, Satanick,” Fumus cooed out to him. “But don’t worry; you are a good boy. I’ll make sure to give you your reward.”

The older brother’s soft chuckle echoed out to the younger as he found himself sinking into the icy, dark abyss that he knew all too well. It welcomed him back in its chilling yet strangely warm embrace.

Yes….

He was a good boy, and a good boy shared his toys.


End file.
